


Jagged Edges

by GalekhXigisi



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, Depressed sex, Depressing, Depression, Hand Jobs, Lazy Sex, M/M, Morally Neutral Deceit Sanders, Multi, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Trans Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Trans Male Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Vaginal Fingering, Winged Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Winged Sleep | Remy Sanders, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 08:57:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18753145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalekhXigisi/pseuds/GalekhXigisi
Summary: The three fit together like a puzzle.





	Jagged Edges

Sad eyes roam over the even sadder form. The room burns with low maintenance. It wasn’t listed in any sort of condescending tone, just a concerned one that pried the fallen angel’s heart open, pried his ocean eyes to tears. He couldn’t list off how many times he had cried over any of those looks. 

 

The three  _ are _ sad, are  _ depressed. _ That was how things usually were, but the two cared for each other far more than they wanted to let on. They yelled, fought, put up an entire hateful show for any and all that chose to view their little tirade. It had become somewhat of an inside joke at this point for them, mocking it when they laid in their rooms and held each other tight. 

 

There’s something so caring in it, though, the way that the three give each other lazy, sleep ridden handjobs or croak about something that annoyed them that day with tearful, sad eyes. They refused to antagonize each other, to fuss, to do anything that seemed to be horrid or would affect them in the long run. 

 

The three were dark sides, yes, had been known as so since their creations. Sleep, who took away from the creative process and threw logic out the window in order to force their host into sleeping once more. Deceit, who went against morals as well as most logic. And Anxiety, who held down anyone and everyone that felt that they could do anything  _ more. _

 

_ “More what,” _ Roman had once asked. 

 

Blank, cold eyes had stared back, unable to reply. Anxiety was based on a multitude of lies, deceiving self just as sleep went with the craving to close their eyes even if sleep truly wasn’t  _ needed _ at that time. Sleep paused any and all activity, pulling the disorderly side out of there when it took too long to answer and he had halted, turning the room into something of anger as well as confusion, only the fatherly side sporting the last one. 

 

Anxiety had dwelled into something else since those teenage years. It had started when they were young, too young to even give Anxiety a name, to even know the word anxiety. It had been whispers that went through one ear and out the other, just as the second possessive name  _ Depression _ had. None of the dark sides were exactly sure when it had taken a shift in Virgil, but it had all the same. He showed up before Patton would, which had become the only hints the light sides got at it being something  _ different. _

 

The supposed  _ “Dark Sides” _ weren’t actually dark. At least, these three weren’t. There was something clear about the way that they looked out for each other, for  _ Thomas, _ putting his wants and needs before their own in order to ensure the better for him. Deceit, who held up lies for him to keep things smooth and connections with his friends. Remy, who made sure he had enough energy to get through the day  _ at least. _ And Virgil, who always seemed to shove Thomas in the right direction and lead him into doing some of his best work, just as big of a perfectionist as always. 

 

The three may have been sad, but they had each other. None were accepted fully as either side, too caring, too loving, too  _ fragile. _ They were  _ different. _

 

Remy’s fingers slowly press inside of Virgil, careful as can be, eyes half-lidded. They could both admit it, this was nothing more than a sad get off, one that was lead by very little energy and low standards, but still a get off all the same. Virgil’s hand slowly strokes the other, tear streaks staining his face with eyeliner and the salty liquid. 

 

Deceit presses gentle kisses to their cheeks, following by their lips. He runs hands through their hair, through the feathers that grace their backs, through anything and everything he can think of. That damn manipulative front he put on had never once been more than a horrid front that he coward behind in order to look  _ better. _ It’s still nothing more as he takes so much care for the two boys in front of him. 

 

Virgil’s moans were always quiet, always pathetic sounding. Remy’s were hoarse and loud, followed by grinding and low whimpers. Deceit stands in the middle of it all, mediating,  _ protecting. _ It’s so passive and domestic that he thinks even Patton would cringe. Remy’s moans quickly become wanton and full of need while Virgil’s become shallower and slowly progress to kitten-like mewls. 

 

The room slowly falls down from its cum-ridden highs, the two huffing. Their eyes are blown and ridden as they pile against each other. Thankfully for the two passive sides, Deceit is there with a warm, damp rag, pressing it to their bodies and cleaning them off just as carefully as he had done everything else before. 

 

The three slot together, clothing  _ (mostly) _ discarded and limbs entangled. They’re simply three jagged puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly, no matter how much Logan had criticized and said that the dark sides had fewer feelings than the light. Deceit had wanted to make a snappy remark at that but had paused when he says Virgil’s careful look and realized just how prone to sad anger the logical side was. They even managed to pity him. No pity is passed around now, though, just the gentle comfort that comes with holding each other, with  _ being held. _ It’s much better than things could be,  _ had been, _ and they’re all just as thankful for each other as they can be. 

**Author's Note:**

> My 69th fanfic and it's still a depressing one. 
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